


sundae

by life_unsolved



Category: LA by Night, Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade- L.A. By Night (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, fluff lite™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 07:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20597039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/life_unsolved/pseuds/life_unsolved
Summary: “We were. It’s fine. What did you need?”Victor tried to ignore the look Mark gave him, beginning to straighten up the papers that scattered. He didn’t need to see the accusations in his son’s eyes.Annabelle hesitated, “We were gonna go get ice cream. We wanted to know if you guys wanted to go.”...Victor and Nelli take the kids for ice cream.





	sundae

**Author's Note:**

> It's been over a month. I tried really hard to write something and I just haven't been able to do it. This isn't deep or meaningful, or even important, but it's what I could do and I'm trying my best to be happy with it.

The two of them sat in near silence, the quiet shuffling of papers and occasional click of keys were the only sounds of life. Victor leaned back into the love seat of his office, dropping the pen he was holding onto the cushion. The soft leather cradled him as he leaned back, stretching out of habit. He closed his eyes, taking in the soft scratch of pen against paper coming from behind his desk.

He scratched his beard before he picked up another set of papers clipped together. They were in his office, and yet he was relegated to the couch. He let out an amused breath. That was their relationship in a nutshell. _What’s mine is hers, and what’s hers is hers._

He watched as she squinted at the paper in hand before she went back to plugging numbers into the calculator in front of her, bending over to get a better look. He told her to sit, make herself at home, but she preferred to stand and work, even in heels that couldn’t have been comfortable.

Her blazer was slung across the back of his chair, and the dark mesh of her shirt fit her like a second skin, disappearing into black, designer jeans. Her beret was starting to slip into her eyes, and he watched as she pushed it back into place absentmindedly. He smiled to himself.

“Nelli?”

She turned to him, humming softly as she paused, papers still in hand. “Yeah?”

The look on her face was so innocent, so unexpecting, that he almost regretted what he was about to say. 

Almost.

“Did you know I used to work in a shoe recycling plant?”

For a moment, her face was completely blank. He watched as confusion furrowed her brows, and she let go of the paper she was holding as she looked up, focusing on him. “A what?”

He nodded earnestly, trying not to betray himself. 

“Yeah, it was _sole_ crushing.”

There was a strange moment of silence before she shook her head, sighing and going back to her work. He chuckled quietly to himself and waited. It always happened so quickly. He watched with rapt attention as the scowl across her face flickered. He was grateful he didn’t need to blink, sometimes he nearly missed it.

He didn’t need to worry. He watched as the corner of her mouth turned up against her will. She wasn’t looking at him, so he couldn’t fully enjoy the smile that was sure to break through. 

“Nelli?”

She tilted her head towards him slightly, not looking up. “Did you know we’re supposed to be working?”

He stood up, letting the expense report he’d been ignoring fall to the couch. He made his way to the desk where she stood, walking around it and leaning down to catch her eye. 

She ignored him deliberately, and he tried to quiet his still heart as she began to smile slightly at the overview of Thorn’s July sales. 

“No, seriously,” he said, grinning shamelessly, “I had an idea for some new merch.”

“Yeah?” She typed in a quick set of numbers, making notes in the margins of her records.

“Yeah. You know how you have Thorn office supplies?”

“Uh-huh,” She muttered, trying to look focused.

He watched as she typed in the same problem twice, and gently pulled the calculator away from her, forcing her to look up at him.

She was trying—failing—to keep a straight face. He’d almost believe her glare if he couldn’t see the mirth in her eyes. 

“I wanted to make Club Maharani pencils with erasers on both ends, but then I thought, that’s kinda pointless.”

He leaned forward just a little, ready for it this time.

It was almost impressive how long she kept a straight face. Nelli had a love/hate relationship with his jokes. Part of him wondered if she only laughed for his sake, if she was just humoring him. They both knew he only kept this up to see her smile. 

She was a spy by trade. He knew hiding information and keeping face came as naturally to her as money and boardroom meetings came to him. Theoretically, she should have been able to keep herself together until he wasn’t looking. He told himself that she just didn’t feel the need to hide from him and shoved the smirking image of Isaac Abrams to the back of his mind. 

Nelli wavered for a moment before she laughed, trying vainly to cover her mouth with her hand. 

He’d known her since she was human, before Chaz got inside of her head. He heard of her disappearance and watched as she rose again. He was privately devastated. They weren’t close like they were now, but he liked her. She had so much potential. He could almost see how years of experience and maturation would smooth out her rough edges. He’d caught a glimpse of the woman she was going to become, and he was more than ready to invest in her.

When he’d seen her again, pale and cold, he could only mourn what the rest of the world had lost. The embraced had taken her flaws and sharpened them. Her faults were weaponized, made immortal through her blood. She would never really grow again. It made her beauty unnatural, stolen the blush from her cheeks, the light from her eyes. Of course, death was beautiful, especially the way they’d done it, but it was always only a pale imitation of life.

The first time he saw her, he thought that everything familiar about her was stolen. Until he heard her laugh. Nelli had a perfect, polished Toreador giggle. It made people swoon, and hearts swelled. It was fine if you liked that sort of thing. Between her embrace and their reunion, she’d also mastered a bitter, acrid thing that might have been called a chuckle by someone generous. Victor preferred the kind of laugh she reserved for the most precious moments. During stupid movies, snarky comments, and dad jokes apparently.

It was not cute, or delicate at all. It ripped through the room almost obnoxiously. It was loud, wild, unrestrained. It tore through the lines between life and death, and for those few seconds he could almost see a living Nelli laughing at him. He could see her sun-freckled face, and the blush at the tips of her ears, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. He could live years inside of her laugh. It was his second favorite sound on earth, right behind the sound of his sons beating hearts. If he stole bits and pieces of the people around him, living and dead, he could almost make himself a family again. He tried not to think about those he left behind. Nelli tried to collect herself, taking a few calming breaths and running a hand through her hair.

“You know you’re not funny, right?” She said, smile betraying her.

He scoffed loudly, “You think I’m hilarious.”

She shook her head, “I think you’re an idiot.” 

She turned to raise an eyebrow at him, and he took a deliberate step forward, getting into her space. She raised her chin, meeting his challenge.

“You think I’m funny. Admit it,” he said, leaning down and moving a little closer to her.

Her eyes flickered downward for a moment, and the air in the room lost some of its humor. He was suddenly aware of the tension that didn’t exist between them before. He was preparing to take a step back when she moved closer to him. He could feel the chill radiating off her. There was a soft shuffle of papers as she ran her hand lightly across the top of the desk before she grabbed the end of his tie between her fingers, keeping him in place.

“You’re not funny,” she murmured, watching him intensely from her lashes, last edges of her smile curling into something dangerous.

“I am,” he insisted, even as he reached forward to brush the hair out of her face, letting his fingers graze her cheek.

“Nuh-uh,” she whispered, leaning forward to meet him halfway. Her eyes darkened into burning coals, and he knew instantly why so many people let themselves be ensnared by her. 

He let his hand ghost over her jawline, tilting her head gently and bringing her closer to him.

“Uh-huh.”

The door behind them opened loudly before he could close the distance.

“Hey, guys, we’re gonna go get-”

Annabelle stopped abruptly, and Mark ran into her, letting out a muffled yelp as he hit her unyielding body.

Nelli ripped herself away from him faster than he could see. Victor tried to blindly fix his tie, as he straightened up to his full height. Mark narrowed his eyes at them. Annabelle took a step back, holding her free hand up.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought- You said you were working, and I thought-”

Nelli walked away from him, moving around the desk and leaning on it. She nearly knocked his stapler off his desk in her haste, and he winced as her claw raked across the dark wood.

“We were. It’s fine. What did you need?”

Victor tried to ignore the look Mark gave him, beginning to straighten up the papers that scattered. He didn’t need to see the accusations in his son’s eyes.

Annabelle hesitated, “We were gonna go get ice cream. We wanted to know if you guys wanted to go.”

Victor gave her a disbelieving look. “We can’t even eat ice cream.”

She glared at him, “I know, but Mark can. And it still smells good.”

Victor didn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. “Why do you want to-”

“We’d love to,” Nelli cut him off. “Why don’t you call a car?”

She gave him an even stare over her shoulder, and he signed.

“Fine, whatever. It’s not like there’s a war or anything, or this would be really stupid.”

He sent a quick text to Campbell before he helped Nelli into her blazer. He didn’t bother putting his suit jacket back on, turning off the lights and locking the office behind him before he followed Annabelle downstairs. He and Nelli listened to them bicker over which flavors were better. 

Annabelle argued for strawberry, while Mark ruthlessly pushed his vanilla agenda. He remembered that it was always Mark’s favorite, because his ex would let the boys put whatever they wanted on it. She claimed that it had less sugar, and Victor knew better than to argue with the woman.

He occasionally joined Nelli in stirring the pot by bringing up toppings. He listened as the three of them argued the intricacies of turtle sundaes, Oreo blizzards, and rainbow sprinkles.

Campbell had a car waiting for them downstairs. The driver was young, and unfamiliar. He opened the door for them, shutting it tightly after Victor got in. He gave the young man directions to the 24-hour ice cream parlor he used to take his sons to when they were younger and he was alive. 

The city was still active, even in these late hours. There wasn’t traffic, but there were people roaming the streets, cabs and Ubers jetting across town. The gentle lights of the city washed over them as they fell into a quiet conversation, Annabelle resting her head on Mark’s shoulder.

“So, what were you guys working on when we-?” She asked, trailing off awkwardly.

Victor tried to subtly pull his hand from where it rested on Nelli’s knee, and three pairs of eyes tracked his movement. Mark stared at him for a second, before he turned his attention to the window behind them.

“Sales. We were going over sales and the budget for the store and the club,” Nelli supplied, taking his hand in hers.

Mark wrinkled his nose. “I thought you hired people to do that?” He asked, meeting Victor’s eyes for a moment. 

“I do. Nelli just likes to go over it by hand to make sure everything’s in order. We check in every two or three months, and with everything that’s happened, we haven’t really had the time.”

Mark hummed for a moment before he leaned back in his seat, pulling Annabelle against him. They sat in a comfortable silence until they reached the block where the little shop stood.

Annabelle perked up as they approached the little building. It was small, but clean and brightly lit. There was a neon sign announcing its presence, and a few people stood in line. There was no inside. There were people sitting in or on their cars, and the half a dozen picnic tables that were spread out next to the parking lot were nearly empty. He watched as a couple of teenagers laughed, flicking ice cream at each other.

“Oh, I haven’t been here in forever. Mark brought me here a few times.”

Mark watched her fondly, and Victor watched his son. A part of him was glad he’d given his son something to hold onto, even if it was something as little as ice cream. He loved both of his sons, but Isaiah had always needed him more. Isaiah needed more attention, more affection, more time. Sometimes, Victor would pull Mark out of bed and take him to get secret midnight ice cream. He blinked, and for a moment he could see his younger self and a tiny Mark in train pajamas sharing secrets. A hand touched his shoulder.

The car stopped. Annabelle and Mark were already moving, heading towards the small line. Nelli watched him carefully. “You coming?”

He quirked his lips at her, squeezing her hand. “Of course, darling. Wouldn’t wanna miss the ice cream.”

He let her guide him out of the car, pausing only to let the driver know he could get something if he wanted. They had time.

They got in line behind Annabelle and Mark as they ordered, and Victor chuckled as he watched the pink begin to blossom in Annabelle’s cheeks. He nudged Nelli, pointing at the excited girl. Nelli studied her for a moment, and then Victor felt a subtle warmth where their hands met.

He stared at her incredulously for a moment. “Really? You still can’t eat it!”

She ignored him, stepping forward and studying the menu for a moment as the teen behind the counter gawked. She turned back to him, “Want to share a banana split?” 

There was a soft hope in her eyes, an unfamiliar eagerness. He didn’t play human often, but he didn’t mind humoring her. Especially not when she looked so familiar to him. He let his body warm and forced his heart to beat.

“Why not? It can’t kill me, right?” 

He grinned as she rolled her eyes, turning back to the girl who seemed desperate to look or be anywhere else, ears burning. 

He pulled out his wallet as she ordered, and slid the kid a twenty, putting the change in the tip cup. He waited impatiently for the ice cream as Nelli went to sit with Annabelle and Mark at a table. He took in the clear night and enjoy the breeze on his skin. It was always warm to him, but it was more pleasant this way.

He thanked the girl again as she passed him their ice cream and walked over to where they waited. He sat it in front of Nelli as he squeezed himself into the small picnic table.

Annabelle was sniffing her strawberry sundae intensely as Mark bit into his cone, a nasty habit Victor had never been able to shake him off. He grimaced on instinct.

Nelli picked up a plastic spoon and began tracing through swirls of caramel and fudge absently. He let the soft sounds of LA drift over him, listening to the distant hum of traffic in the background. 

“Victor,” Nelli said, not looking up from the mess she was making of their ice cream.

“Hm?”

“Did you hear about that ice cream truck that crashed the other day?”

He cocked his head, shaking it lightly and picking up his own spoon. Annabelle had her tongue poked out and was a few millimeters from her ice cream. He waited with eager anticipation.

“Yeah, the driver said it was because of the rocky road.”

He jerked back as Annabelle finally made contact and groaned. She began spitting into a napkin. Mark sighed from the other side of the table, and Victor paused.

_Did she just-?_

“Did you just make a dad joke?”

Nelli innocently played in their ice cream, grin playing at the edges of her lips. He threw his head back and roared, wrapping an arm around her. Annabelle groaned louder as she tried to wipe the ice cream from her mouth.

“Not you, too!” She complained. Mark slid a hand over his face, setting his half-eaten sundae on the table. 

“I don’t even know if I can finish this after that.”

Annabelle leaned forward, and swiped it from him, letting her own cone to drop the ground.

“Hey! Give that back! You can’t even eat that!”

Victor watched as the two argued over the melting ice cream. He turned to look at Nelli, letting the delight on her face fill him up in a way ice cream never did. “That was incredible.”

She smiled at him, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He rested his head on hers for a moment. “Of course not, dear. You’re amazing.”

She leaned against him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Mark smeared ice cream on Annabelle’s jacket, and Victor chuckled at her outraged shrieks and Nelli’s shudder of disgust.

Victor always liked ice cream.


End file.
